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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27333448">i can't switch off and on like you do.</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/beckhams/pseuds/beckhams'>beckhams</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>football. — ideas. [10]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Men's Football RPF</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>FIFA 17, Friends to Enemies, Friendship, M/M, Pining, yes I know this is niche and absolutely nobody will read it let me have this</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-11-01</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-11-01</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 23:29:34</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,457</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27333448</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/beckhams/pseuds/beckhams</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>alex can't quite place when it all went wrong. he can't ask, he can't tell, he just doesn't know when gareth went from being his best mate to being someone that he only made stupid bets with in the tunnel.</p><p>or, alex tries to figure out when it all went wrong.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Alex Hunter/Gareth Walker (FIFA)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>football. — ideas. [10]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1733986</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>i can't switch off and on like you do.</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>listen. I know this is niche and will get 12 reads at MOST but sometimes you just need to make a self indulgent fanfic and that's valid.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p> </p><p>the premier league was supposed to be their's. and it is their's but in a way neither of them expected, in a way that has them sharing hateful glances and rough tackles.</p><p> </p><p>gareth's shirt is red, but it's not the <em>right</em> red and the crest is a golden liverbird. it stings to see him wear it, to wear it with pride when all he'd done as a child is talk and talk and talk and dream of playing for united.</p><p> </p><p>alex can't quite place when it all went wrong. he can't ask, he can't tell, he just doesn't <em>k</em><em>now</em> when gareth went from being his best mate to being someone that he only made stupid bets with in the tunnel.</p><p> </p><p><strong>( </strong>"wanna make a bet, alex?" gareth would ask, and then he'd turn his manipulative eyes to alex and pull the heart strings, "for old times sake."</p><p> </p><p>and alex has always been a nostalgic guy, "course, mate, but don't be too sure you'll win."</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>knock him down a peg.</em>
</p><p> </p><p>"oh, yeah, I forgot." gareth says. "I'm sure they taught you a lot in the lower league."</p><p> </p><p>and then the officials would yell out that its time to start the match, and alex would shake some warmth into his hands before patting lili on the shoulder, making lili turn around and give him a brief, comforting smile.</p><p> </p><p>his boots are laced tight and he can feel the pressure in his stomach building already, <em>just score a goal and shut gaz up and you're good.</em> <strong>)</strong> </p><p> </p><p>
  <strong>☆</strong>
</p><p> </p><p>and when did it become like this? when did gareth slip out of his hands? when did he suddenly become the enemy?</p><p> </p><p>maybe it started when they were younger, playing on the same youth team, same jersey, same dream. maybe it started when alex scored the penalty and gareth missed, gareth said he didn't care because they won in the end. </p><p> </p><p><strong>(</strong> "who cares who scores it, al? we win it either way." and then he had curled his boyish arms around alex' neck to hug him tight.</p><p> </p><p>and their medals swished against each other, and it felt right, like they were supposed to always be like this.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>who cares, alex? who cares? </em>
</p><p> </p><p>and he was right, they won it either way, but alex couldn't help but look into gareth's eyes and see all the want and hunger in them, he wanted. he wanted to be the winner, and alex couldn't hand it to him, his hands childish and clumsy but his feet skilled. </p><p> </p><p>and its not <em>his fault</em> that it went in, but he can't help but wish his missed and gareth's didn't. </p><p> </p><p>childish hands, childish hands tangled. </p><p> </p><p>maybe that's when it started.</p><p> </p><p>maybe, maybe, maybe. </p><p> </p><p>maybe the spark of hate started then. <strong>) </strong></p><p> </p><p>maybe it started at the trials, bibs matching and sweat shining. lads lined up and put into teams and duos. </p><p> </p><p>and they had sweat running down and grass marks and dirt all over, and they leaned against each other in exhaustion, sharing water bottles without the spit wiped off. </p><p> </p><p>maybe it started when alex ranked first and gareth ranked third. maybe it started when alex was approached by the gaffer, hands in his pockets, telling alex how impressed he was and how he's following his grandfather's footsteps. </p><p> </p><p>maybe it started with the rankings. </p><p> </p><p><strong>(</strong> "I mean, I don't even care, alex. as long as I'm in the top ten, I'm fine with whatever." gareth said, tugging a top on, the tag sticking out. </p><p> </p><p>and he tensed slightly when he felt cold hands tucking it into his shirt, hiding the tag and smoothing the creases. <em>alex</em>. </p><p> </p><p>"I'm aiming high, top 3, number one even." alex said and smiled over, lips stretched into a smile that said<em> 'I did good today, I'm winning this thing'</em> even if it wasn't something to be won.</p><p> </p><p>the changing room was scattered with people, exhausted and focused on their phones, and even in a public space, it felt like a private moment. </p><p> </p><p>"but don't worry, gaz, if I make it, I'm taking you with me." </p><p> </p><p>"don't get so cocky on me, alex." Gareth responded with a laugh. "but vice versa and all that." </p><p> </p><p>
  <em>and all that. </em>
</p><p> </p><p>maybe that's when it started. <strong>) </strong></p><p> </p><p>maybe it started when they were subbed on, <em>together</em>. and alex could already hear the newspaper headlines. </p><p> </p><p>
  <em>'local friends debut for manchester united.'</em>
</p><p> </p><p>some lovey dovey quickly written story about the power of friendship and all that, and it would make him sick to read, how great they were to have made it together, but he'd treasure the paper anyways and he'd pretend like he didn't. </p><p> </p><p>he'd rip the page out and stuff it under his mattress. </p><p> </p><p>(and when he goes to gareth's house after training, he sees he's got the exact same newspaper framed and hanging.) </p><p> </p><p>and his number matches gaz' (#29 HUNTER, #30 WALKER) and it feels like the pieces set into place, like he's really about to do something he's only ever dreamed about. </p><p> </p><p><strong>( </strong>butler pats the small of his back and says, "impress the gaffer, okay, alex? impress him, not me."</p><p> </p><p>and alex nodded, hands fisted, he was ready. </p><p> </p><p>he bumped his shoulder against gareth, as if hoping the physical contact would calm him (and he'd never say it out loud, but it did). gareth bumped back just as hard, if not harder. </p><p> </p><p>"you ready, gaz?" he had said, voice surprisingly steady and calm. "ready for history?" </p><p> </p><p>"prem ain't got no idea what's coming."</p><p> </p><p>and they didn't, they had no idea. but sure, alex didn't either. gareth always had this aura of being on top of things at all times, he knew everything that happened at school, he knew everything that happened period. and if he thought the prem was about to get rocked of its wheels by them, alex had no choice but to believe it. </p><p> </p><p>he'd scored, made an assist too, gareth hadn't done too shabby either, an assist and an attempt that was <em>just</em> about cleared by the keeper. </p><p> </p><p>and the media pen was stuffy and hot and the microphone was pressed close to his face but he was elated to have just been there. </p><p> </p><p>"hi alex, how are you? so today was your debut for manchester united and you scored a goal, how does that feel?" </p><p> </p><p>"yeah I was really lucky today, obviously the team played amazingly, full credit to them and the gaffer." he said, the interviewer nodding along, <em>praise the boys</em>. "yeah, feel like I made a mark and hopefully I can continue to do that." </p><p> </p><p>"and you debuted with gareth walker, your childhood friend, how do you feel?" </p><p> </p><p>"it was a really great moment. obviously, I wish he had scored but it was just bad luck it didn't go in. we showed what we can do, so yeah, we hope to be back next match."</p><p> </p><p>maybe it started when butler patted alex' shoulder and gave him a quick whisper of "you played well, kid" when they were walking to get in the team branded bus, and just gave a quick nod to gareth. </p><p> </p><p>maybe it started with jealousy. <strong>) </strong></p><p> </p><p>or maybe it started when alex was called into butler's office, hands sweaty and nervous. maybe it started when alex sat and stared out the window while he was being told he'd have to be loaned out. he'd have to leave manchester.</p><p> </p><p>he tried to catch gareth when he was going out to training but gareth quickly shook off his hand with a 'sorry, alex, training, you know how it is'. and yes, alex did know how it is, so he let him go. </p><p> </p><p>and maybe that was truly the start. letting him go, instead of tugging him back and saying 'we need to talk right now'. but alex didn't tug him back, because he didn't want to hold him back.</p><p> </p><p>he would never let himself hold gareth back. </p><p> </p><p>and maybe that's how it started, alex always giving and gareth taking and neither of them expect it to change. gareth leading and alex following. and neither of them expected for alex to wander off and make his own path, to make his own dream become a reality. </p><p> </p><p>
  <em>"vice versa and all that."</em>
</p><p> </p><p><strong>(</strong> the phone rings, and it rings and it rings. and suddenly the hotel room seems so big, there's too much room for one person. </p><p> </p><p>alex' suit cases are open and sloppily packed on a haste, sat on his bed. the bed is white with red cushions and the walls are a creme and it's not <em>right</em>. and his heart aches but he'd never say it. </p><p> </p><p>him and gareth never said what they were feeling. they just <em>didn't do feelings</em> no matter how badly alex wanted to say something. no matter how badly alex wanted to grab onto gareth and shake him.</p><p> </p><p><em>just tell me what you're thinking. tell me what you feel. </em>and he was bursting at the seems, <em>let me just tell you how I'm doing.</em></p><p> </p><p>
  <strong>GAZ - RINGING</strong>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <strong>ME: 10:53PM</strong>
</p><p>
  <strong>
    <em>you up 4 a call? </em>
  </strong>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <strong>GAZ: 11:04PM</strong>
</p><p>
  <strong>
    <em>sorry mate busy next time x</em>
  </strong>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <strong>ME: 11:13PM</strong>
</p><p>
  <strong>
    <em>sure x text when ur free</em>
  </strong>
</p><p> </p><p>and then gareth just... never texted 'hey I'm free let's call'. actually, he just never texted alex again. and it shouldn't feel so lonely, it shouldn't feel so cold and heartless, but it does.</p><p> </p><p>and maybe it starts in an empty hotel room, clutching his phone, hoping his best friend will just <em>fucking call him back</em>. <strong>)</strong></p><p> </p><p>
  <strong>☆</strong>
</p><p> </p><p>maybe it continued when alex was in newcastle, with danny williams by his side. maybe it starts when danny invites himself to alex' with beer in hand and pizza.</p><p> </p><p><strong>(</strong> "I'm seventeen, you know." alex mumbled, reaching over for a bottle. </p><p> </p><p>"you only live once, boyscout." danny retaliated, smiling to himself. "no one will find out."</p><p> </p><p>and alex had nodded and swallowed down the beer. watching a shitty romcom that didn't even make sense. and he enjoyed the championship league, it was rough, mean, physical and it was <em>good</em>. </p><p> </p><p>he was top scorer, loved at his club, the fans more than overjoyed with the results, somehow made friends with danny. it was going <em>good</em>.</p><p> </p><p>and maybe he shouldn't have made fun of danny for calling the championship 'paradise' because he gets it now, he knows what danny means.</p><p> </p><p>maybe it continues when alex starts to forget manchester. <strong>)</strong></p><p> </p><p>maybe it continues when he's called into dino's office, a grimace and a quick goodbye that sounds more bittersweet than happy.</p><p> </p><p>and his feet scuff at the ground while he walks. </p><p> </p><p>does he want to go back to manchester? of course he does, it's <em>his</em> club, the club he's dreamed of playing for since he was a wee little thing kicking a ball against his bedroom wall, annoying the neighbours. </p><p> </p><p>so he brushes his doubts aside and keeps walking to the dressing room to finish his goodbyes. </p><p> </p><p>(and he forces the lads to get a group photo. he doesn't have to push too hard before he's thrown in the pack and squished against other shoulders, trying to get everyone in frame.</p><p> </p><p>of course, they all slap him in the shoulder with a "good luck, lad, they're lucky to have you." </p><p> </p><p>and when danny walks him to his car, Alex turns on his heels before getting in. "you know, williams, I'm gonna take you with me. I'll get you in the prem. promise."</p><p> </p><p>"and I'll get you back down here. vice versa and all that."</p><p> </p><p>"and all that.") </p><p> </p><p>and maybe it continues when he comes into the locker room, busy and messy and so <em>boyish</em>. and so red, so red it overwhelms him, and this is home. </p><p> </p><p>a home he's been away from for too long, a home he's grown to long for and miss. and maybe it's not only the home but the people in it, he's missed butler and lili and toro and <em>gareth</em>. </p><p> </p><p>but the missed calls and cocky interviews still ring in his head, and when he puts away his stuff, he can hear gareth having a go at the gaffer, storming out. </p><p> </p><p>he doesn't come back. </p><p> </p><p>and maybe that's were it continued. </p><p> </p><p>(because it was always them, together. heat shared under a bed blanket, legs tangled, talking about how the big leagues would be, how playing for united would be. </p><p> </p><p>and then gareth made it. he made it and made it and <em>made it.</em> leaving alex to scramble behind him. </p><p> </p><p>and he just never caught up.</p><p> </p><p>so he made his own path. <strong>) </strong></p><p> </p><p>
  <strong>☆</strong>
</p><p> </p><p>maybe it ends when alex wins and wins and wins and suddenly the bets don't even seem like bets, they seem like gareth holding onto hope, wanting and wanting.</p><p> </p><p>wanting greatness.</p><p> </p><p>greatness he could have achieved if he stayed the same boy that shared bed covers and dreams and unwiped spit covered bottles with alex. </p><p> </p><p>maybe if he didn't leave, he could have actually <em>won</em> something. </p><p> </p><p><strong>(</strong> when gareth taps him on the back, all suited up and the busses waiting for them both, alex stands and waits, waits for him to say something (an apology). </p><p> </p><p>but gareth never says anything, sure he talks, but he doesn't <em>say</em> anything. </p><p> </p><p>"you know, gareth, I'm really gonna miss you, mate." alex says, looking over to the bus, seeing lili and toro making motions for him to hurry up already. "cause it was always you and me."</p><p> </p><p>"yeah. prem had no idea."</p><p> </p><p>"I didn't either. I just trusted you, but then you left me. and I guess it worked out better for me than for you."</p><p> </p><p>"I'm twice the player you'll ever be." gareth spits and alex smiles over at him. and it feels wrong. he's not the same as he used to be. </p><p> </p><p>"I have twice the trophies you'll ever have."</p><p> </p><p>premier league and fa cup. gareth could have won it. </p><p> </p><p>and maybe alex always clinged at the hope that if he could just talk to him, he'd be able to sort him out and they could go back to getting drunk together and waking up in the same bed with hickeys and then they'd pretend like it was some girl that gave them. </p><p> </p><p>and maybe he hoped they could pretend like gareth actually loved him. </p><p> </p><p>"I'll see you around, mate, love you." </p><p> </p><p>"love you too."</p><p> </p><p>and gareth doesn't mean it. but it's nice that he still automatically responds like that when alex says it.</p><p> </p><p>maybe he loved him at some point. </p><p> </p><p>not any more. <strong>) </strong></p><p> </p><p>maybe it ended because alex chose to end it. maybe it ended because he looked at gareth and all he saw was all the flaws and the dead look in his eyes. </p><p> </p><p>maybe it stopped when he realised gareth was just <em>gareth walker, young footballing superstar</em> and not <em>gareth walker, alex' childhood friend. </em></p><p> </p><p>it stopped because alex chose to move on. </p><p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>sorry if this makes it look like I'm excusing Gareth's actions bc I know he's a prick but I can't help but love the whole concept of friends to enemies!!!!</p></blockquote></div></div>
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